


How It Really Began

by QueenMae_theGay



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, My boys are sad, god someone hug them, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 05:17:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMae_theGay/pseuds/QueenMae_theGay
Summary: set in space; timeline: not relevant (as usual); some klancebasically, after Lance died, he has nightmares. When Keith finds out, things go south.





	How It Really Began

It starts when Allura pulls all the Paladins together after a diplomatic mission. She, apparently, has something to show them. Keith and Lance, Black and Red paladins, had landed on a plant today, running a mission by themselves. A completely successful mission. 

 

She sat them down and told them to watch. The first video she showed them was recognizable as being 10,000 years old - because the voices in it weren’t those of current Paladins. 

 

Allura spoke. “These are the original Red and Blue paladins - my father, King Alfor, and his blue paladin, Blaytz of the planet Nalquod. I want you to watch them.”

 

The screen displayed the two lions as they cut through space. They carved complex patterns around each other as they playfully banter back and forth - flying easily and comfortably with each other. And although the words were different, it was easy to recognize it as the same tone that Lance and Keith used. 

 

“Now, I’d like you to watch a video our long-range scanners recorded today, while Lance and Keith were flying back from their - highly successful - mission.”

 

And sure enough, they were arguing back and forth through their comms - bickering as usual. 

 

That wasn’t what Allura wanted them to see, though.

 

What she wanted them to see was how they flew together - their lions twisting through the void in a geometric dance. She wanted them to watch how the two boys spun their lions and ducked out of each other’s way and made every intricate movement like it was entirely unconscious - because they did all that while still bickering over the correct way to pronounce the word “egg”. 

 

“This is what true bonding with your lions and with each other should look like - unconscious symbiosis and teamwork.” 

 

She kept talking, but Keith had stopped listening, because Lance shot him a wicked sharp grin and a pair of awkward bisexual thumbs up, as he mouthed the words “hells yeah, we make a good team”.  And he kinda felt like he was falling through the expanse of space still paused on the screen in front of him.

 

But he smiled back, and it was so prideful and smirking and somehow also soft that Lance felt like he was about to melt out of his seat and into a puddle of happy blue quintessence. 

 

It didn’t help when Lance sought Keith out and gave him an enormous high five because they’re “fucking badass!!” and he “didn’t even know I was doing that!” - and even though he was so happy and excited, Keith couldn’t help himself from making the impossibly easy “not bad for a fighter pilot” joke.

 

Although his smile took the edge off of his words. 

 

And really, everything began with that smile. 

 

*

 

It started when Keith had a terrible day - a mission gone wrong, Hunk in a cryo-pod with an injury, Matt and Pidge sulking over bruised technological pride. It didn’t help that Allura was still a little cold with her words from her anger at a botched job - projecting her own mistakes atop everyone else's - and that Coran was too loud and too  **much** and it was sending his anxiety overboard. 

 

And Shiro was still gone, so he couldn’t exactly talk about it with his team, the team he was supposed to be leading. 

 

It started when Keith was training after that mission after he made sure everyone was alright and had gotten Pidge to promise to rest before she started working on the Lions. He was taking his stress out on a level of the simulator higher than anything the team had even begun to reach when the door slid open. He didn’t bother to look up, and whoever it was must have input their commands from their wrist pad - still in their armor too - because he didn’t hear a voice. 

 

Another gladiator dropped out of the ceiling, and Keith didn’t pay any attention to it until he had defeated his own simulation. 

 

When he looked up, there as Lance, sparring hand to hand with a robotic opponent at a level Keith recognized - because he had only beaten it a few days ago. While he watched, Lance took down the gladiator with a quick lunge, scooping its feet out from under it. 

 

He growled at it as it went down, and the pure rage in his face made Keith take a step back. 

 

But when Lance turned, there was nothing but warmth in his eyes as he smiled at his leader. 

 

“Hey. I figured you’d be training since I saw you getting uncomfy with the whole group dynamic. You don’t have to talk to me, but I figured you’d need someone to spar with.”

 

He smiled self deprecatingly as he gestured to the defeated gladiators. “Clearly the robots aren’t what they used to be.”

 

Keith just nodded. Of fucking course, Lance had noticed. He always notices. 

 

“Ok.”

 

So they spar, and Keith had to admit that he was good. Damn good. And maybe, just a little bit, pulling his punches. 

 

Keith also realized that Lance had come here to spar Keith, and he could have just waited for Keith to finish his round with the gladiator. But he hadn’t. He’d taken down a crazy hard level in only a few minutes, and Keith wanted to know why. 

 

When Lance lets Keith land the third punch in as many minutes - this one to his ribs, he starts to get frustrated. Keith had thought this might actually be a challenge, like sparring with Shiro used to be. 

 

“You’re not even fucking trying! Can’t you take anything seriously?” His angry tirade continues as he aims punch after kick after blow at Lance, hardly noticing that nothing he tries even connects with the boy in front of him. 

 

He keeps ranting, expelling all his frustration and anger from their day, and Lance just takes it, as he takes the blows coming towards him, not punching Keith back, but not letting a single thing touch him. 

 

When Keith stops, finally stops shouting, he’s out of breath and his chest is heaving, but he still aims a roundhouse kick at Lance’s chest. 

 

And his foot stops in midair, as Lance somehow caught his fucking foot. 

 

The next thing Keith knew, he was flat on his back on the floor, and Lance was straddling his hips, his arms pressed down on his shoulders. 

 

And Keith finally understands why Lance went after the Gladiator first. Because he had been paying attention, he would have noticed how easily Lance danced around him, battered as they both were. Because Lance still feels like he needs to prove himself. And now Lance isn’t playing anymore. 

 

The anger is back, ever so slightly, in his expression, like he’s almost but not quite keeping himself on a tight leash. There’s something else there, too, but Keith can’t make himself analyze it. 

 

He leans down, puts his mouth next to Keith’s ear, and for half a second, Keith thinks Lance is about to kiss him. 

 

But only for a half second, because that’s the amount of time it takes Lance to draw Keith’s knife and press it against his throat. 

 

“You get distracted too easily. Do you do that with everyone you spar against? Or is it just me?”

 

Lance’s face is unreadable, but something tells Keith that there’s another question there that he’s missing. When he doesn’t respond, the other boy stands up, tucking the knife into his own belt. 

 

“Get up. I’m not going easy on you this time. I’ll take it seriously, promise.”

 

And the bitterness is back in his tone as he pulls Keith upright, stabilizing him as he stands. 

 

But as he grabs Lance’s hand, Keith can feel himself smiling, a genuine smile that feels foreign on his face. 

 

And they spar again, first against each other and then against the training room, never once speaking a word. 

 

Because it all came from the way they understood each other. 

 

*

 

He genuinely had no idea why he was seeking out Keith. After they had trained together the night before, they’d hardly spoken. 

 

He usually went to Hunk with this kind of stuff - or Pidge. 

 

But Hunk was in the med bay still, and Pidge would ask the wrong kind questions. He wasn’t sure if he could handle that right now. 

 

The door opened while he debated if he should knock or not. 

 

“I recognized your footsteps. I figured you wouldn’t knock, so I saved us both the wait.” Keith smiled though, even as he spoke the sarcastic words. “What’s up?”

 

And then he realized just how badly Lance was shaking, his blanket drawn tightly around him, his usually tan skin ghostly and pale. Even his hair was messy and stuck up in a thousand directions, which was entirely uncharacteristic of Lance. 

 

And were those...bags under his eyes?? 

 

“You look like shit.” As usual, Keith was nothing if not honest, and Lance didn’t mind. Silently, he nodded. He knew. 

 

“Do you want to… sit down?” Keith looked confused but not unwelcoming. But when Lance went to answer, he found that he couldn’t. Too anxious, too far gone to even dredge up a response. So he nodded again, his hands fluttering in the folds of the blanket. Keith guided him gently to sit on the edge of his bed.

 

“Is everything ok? Are you ok?”

 

That’s all it took for Lance to start crying. 

 

Keith nearly fainted on the spot when Lance started crying. He wasn’t good with human emotions. But he wrapped an arm around Lance like he had seen the other boy do with Hunk and Pidge, asking “Is this ok?” as he did. 

 

And when he got another nod in response, Keith knew something was really, really wrong. Because Lance never missed an opportunity to talk, and Lance had never ever come to his room in the middle of the night before. But Keith also knew what anxiety was like, and so he just sat with Lance, waiting for him to be ready. 

 

When he spoke, the first thing he said was, “I’m so sorry.”

 

They’d been sitting together for over a half hour now, and Lance had somehow migrated nearly into Keith’s lap as he leaned on the other boy. 

 

But Keith didn’t move, despite how uncomfortable he was with the close contact. Because he knew it helped Lance. “Why?”

 

“I had a nightmare, and I couldn’t sleep. It’s not important.” Lance drew a breath and cut off the statement he could feel forming - Keith’s protest. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

 

“Yes, you should have. Because I’m always here no matter why you need me.” He was surprised at the words that came out of his mouth - like his heart had found a way to bypass his brain and speak for itself. 

 

Lance didn’t reply for a long time, and when he did, his voice was so quiet that Keith could barely hear him, sitting next to him. “You make me feel safe, and I didn’t feel safe alone in my room. I’m sorry.”

 

Keith didn’t reply right away either, but he took a deep breath and then suggested something he knew he would regret. “Stay here, then.”

 

Lance looked at him like he was crazy. 

 

“If you don’t feel safe sleeping in your room, sleep here. I don’t sleep anyway, so you’re not going to disrupt me. If you’re comfortable with that?”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Lance lay down hesitantly, curling instinctively into a ball. Keith smiled down at him, still not used to being slightly taller, and tucked his blanket over his… friend. 

 

He leaned against the wall, seated on the bed near Lance but not touching him. Giving them both personal space. 

 

He sat in the dark for a long time, reading quietly on a tablet. Still trying to master Altean.

 

Nearly an hour passed before Lance whispered, “Keith?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Do you mind if I tell you about my dream?” His anxiety was lower now, but he was still unrecognizable as the Lance the universe knew. “Sometimes it helps me…it makes the dreams less real.”

 

Keith frowned at the implication that Lance had dreams like this often, but he still nodded. “Of course.”

 

“I dreamed that we were back in that fight. When you weren’t here. And Allura was in Blue, but she hadn’t learned how to steer her quite right yet, and I realized she was going to get shot. Bad shot.” He took another deep breath, and then continued, quietly. “I didn’t even realize what I did until later, but I shoved Red into the path.  _ Y morí, y dolió como el infierno. _ ”  

 

“What?”

 

“I… died. And it hurt like hell.” 

 

“You… Lance.”

 

“Allura was right there. She jumped out of Blue and did some magic with my quintessence and saved me. I don’t think she even realized. But I felt myself die.”

 

“Lance.”

 

“And I keep dreaming about it. Over and over again. Usually, I’m ok, but tonight…. I watched all of you die. And then I died, but the pain didn’t stop and I couldn’t…” His voice broke, and to Keith’s alarm, Lance was crying again. 

 

So he did the only thing he thought might help. He opened his arms. 

 

And to his shock, Lance crawled up next to him and buried his face in Keith’s shoulder.

 

They were silent after that. When Lance finally drifted off to sleep, hours later, Keith gingerly lowered him down, and then lay down beside him, still holding him against his chest. 

 

When Lance woke up in the morning, Keith had draped both blankets over him. His tablet lay long forgotten at the foot of the bed.  But Lance was alone in the Black paladin’s room. 

 

*

 

No one would meet his eye. He had stumbled in for breakfast, and yeah, he looked like shit, but it didn’t explain why no one would look at him. 

 

“Good morning to you too!” Lance’s laugh died in the silent air.

 

And then Keith strolled in, and Allura made an excuse to leave the room, and Lance was genuinely worried. 

 

“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?”   
  


“Ask Keith.” Pidge’s voice was raw, and when she looked up from her laptop, Lance realized she was crying. 

 

_ Dios mío, ¿qué está mal? _ “Pidge what’s wrong?” 

 

He rushed over to her, dropping into the seat next to the tiny girl he considered his little sister. 

 

But she started crying again, quietly, into her cereal, and when Lance asked her what was wrong, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 

“Keith?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What did you do.”

 

And although his heart jumped the tiniest bit when Lance called his name, the pure rage he could sense from across the room made him want to run as far away from Lance as possible. 

 

“I told them all exactly what they did wrong on the last mission, and exactly why they weren’t able to keep you from dying.”

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Keith regretted them, because everything tan and pink and good about Lance that was starting to creep back into his complexion blanched out when he registered what Keith had said. 

 

But before he could try to fix the mess he made, Lance stood up and left the room. 

 

Because even though it started with a smile, it could be broken by a frown. 

  
  


*

 

The thing with Keith is that he’s still just learning to control his anger. And sometimes, like right now, that anger gets misplaced. Directed at his team, for example, instead of himself. But Keith was also starting to grow up, and he recognized his reaction - no matter how angry he was and no matter how much he wanted to protect Lance - wasn’t the right one. 

 

So he went to apologize. 

 

*

 

And this is how it really began - with a sparring match. 

 

In a strange twist of fate, Lance was on the training deck when Keith arrived -  the mirror image of their places two nights before. But when Lance spotted Keith, he didn’t finish his round or let Keith make the first move. 

 

“Pause simulation.”

 

He stalked forward, and again Keith was struck by how dangerous the normally easy-going boy looked. 

 

“Hunk is going to be out of the pod soon. Try not to ruin how he thinks of me too, please.”

 

When Keith’s eyebrows twisted into a question, Lance barked out a bitter laugh. 

 

“Why do you think I never told them? You really think I wanted to watch them all look at me like I’m made of fucking glass?? I have spent months - MONTHS - earning their respect. They didn’t just give it to me. I had to learn how to fight, learn how to shoot. 

 

And now, because of this, I’m back to being a pathetic attention seeking whatever-the-fuck. Because you decided something I told you, in confidence, was yours to be angry about. You weren’t even there!

 

And you just come waltzing back on board as our leader again, making everything better, making it all your fucking business. You think I need to learn to take things seriously? Learn to take me seriously! I’m so fucking sick of not belonging on this ship. And I finally did and you took it away.”

 

He was working up to a much longer rant, and then stopped silent. 

 

Because Keith had put his hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

 

“I take you seriously. I will always, always, take you seriously.” He lifted his hand to cup Lance’s cheek. 

 

“Hey, look at me.”

 

Lance raised an eyebrow, ignoring the blush crawling up his face. 

 

“I’m so so sorry. I didn’t think. I was terrified and angry and all I could see was you dying and I snapped. It wasn’t my place and it wasn’t my right.”

 

Lance sighed. “Why does it even matter?” He was expecting a throwaway line about his importance to the team - the kind Shiro and Allura half-heartedly tossed his way when he allowed himself to be visibly upset. That’s not what he got.   
  


“I need you.” And his face was so open and honest that Lance felt his breath catch. Judging by the flutter of a smile, Keith felt it. 

 

Gently, ever so gently, Lance placed his hand on Keith’s face, mirroring the other boy’s position - and they stood there for a long time, the balances of each other. Light and dark, fire and water, loving and spiteful. 

 

And for a moment everything was ok. But then Pidge’s voice beeped over the intercom, telling them that Hunk was coming out soon. And something bitter and dark shuttered back into place in Lance. He spoke with a voice Keith had never heard him use on anyone but an enemy. 

 

“Never do that again.” From anyone else, it would be an empty threat. Not from Lance, not tonight. “Let’s go.” 

 

He summoned his bayard to his hand, only to holster it at his hip. He wanted to  **feel** this. Not in the impersonal way you did through a blade, but with his hands and feet and fists. Keith just nodded. 

 

His time with the Blades had made him wickedly fast - turned every inch of him into a lethal weapon. But when he paused to think about it, Keith realized that, aside from the other night, he couldn’t remember ever sparring, hand to hand, with Lance. 

 

*

 

He circled like the big cats of Earth, like the apex predator their ships were modeled after. He walked around Keith like he was judging him, scanning him. He wasn’t even in a fighting stance - his hands loose at his sides, his body relaxed. 

 

So Keith waited, waited for the punch he knew was coming. He blocked that first punch. In fact, he blocked the first few blows. But Lance was just as fast, and he was just as violent, and more than that, he was angry - betrayed. 

 

Keith was on the floor in a minute flat, bleeding from his knuckles and lip, with a cut grazing his cheekbone. Lance looked equally bad, and there would definitely be a bruise on his ribs later. Still, Lance smiled, a feral thing, and reached down to help Keith up. 

 

Only then did Keith realize just how strong Lance had become - strength he had hidden in baggy sweaters and behind face masks. Because the help Lance offered was as slippery as his trust in Keith. 

 

Before he had time to register being upright again, he was back on his ass. Lance had flipped him. He leaned over Keith, practically growling as he spoke. 

 

“You really thought a few soft words would fix all this? Don’t ever -  **ever** \- touch me again.”

 

This time, he didn’t hide his anger. He just walked out the door to greet Hunk. And the hatred in his eyes nearly broke Keith’s heart. 


End file.
